


Firewood

by bentrollio



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shire, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, chub Thorin, mentioned - Freeform, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 07:26:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5699998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bentrollio/pseuds/bentrollio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frodo and Thorin build a nice, warm fire and Bilbo joins them. Just 100%, pure Shire AU fluff with Frodo, Bilbo, and Thorin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firewood

Mornings in Bagend used to be calm, quiet affairs-- early mornings when Bilbo would rise with the sun and seat himself in his favorite armchair with a heavy book and a warm cup of tea. It wasn’t that mornings became any less enjoyable, but after marrying a Dwarven king and adopting his orphaned nephew, Bilbo’s routine had changed more than a little.

  
For instance, he woke later than he used to, what with a warm husband to snuggle into. Bilbo spent many mornings simply running his fingers through Thorin’s salt and pepper hair, tracing along old raised scars from the battle they both wished to forget, and nuzzling into the soft, pudgy curves that his Dwarf had acquired from years of living in the Shire.

  
Thorin would eventually wake, reluctantly blinking his dream-dusted eyes and letting out a big, lazy yawn, before being properly woken with a series of feather-light kisses to his bearded jaw. That’s how their day started, always together, always quiet and loving, exchanging no words but the ones they spoke though slow, loving actions.

  
However, this morning had been different. Bilbo woke late as usual and reached out to bring his husband closer, expecting to find the ex-king still sound asleep and snoring loudly. Bilbo was not expecting to be met with a cold emptiness beside him, and immediately sat up. Confused, Bilbo scanned the room for Thorin, but with no such luck.

  
“Where’s that confounded Dwarf gone to now?” Bilbo muttered under his breath as he swung his legs off the bed, big feet hitting the cold floor with a clunk.  
The Hobbit turned his head towards the open bedroom door, for he could hear a faint conversation coming from somewhere inside the smial. He slipped on his old red robe and left the room to investigate, stomach protesting his choice to find the source of the voices before eating.

  
“You did such a good job carrying all that in with me,” A low, rumbling voice said as Bilbo entered the living room. Bilbo froze at the scene before him, heart welling with adoration.

  
Thorin and Frodo sat together in front of the fireplace (now lit with an inviting fire), sipping cocoa from mugs, and munching on yesterday’s elevensies biscuits. Frodo had cuddled up against Thorin’s chest, while Thorin had slung a protective arm over the fauntling and mussed his dark, curly hair. Two pairs of wool mittens hung over the fireplace (a bit too close, but he would have time to scold Thorin later), and across the floor, his nephew and husband’s scarves and winter coats were strewn haphazardly.

  
It just looked so… So perfect and natural. Bilbo had originally worried that Thorin and Frodo wouldn’t get along, but here they were, cuddled up together like father and son. Like a family. _Bilbo’s own little family._

  
“Good morning, my loves,” Bilbo yawned, walking over to the pair and placing a small kiss on his husband’s lips and another atop his nephew’s head. “What are you doing up so early?”

  
“Uncle Thorin and I were chopping fire wood!” Frodo proclaimed proudly. Bilbo raised an eyebrow at Thorin.

  
“I chopped it. But Frodo helped collect it and carry it in,” Thorin clarified quickly.

  
“Oh? You carried it all in?” A slight smirk played on Bilbo’s lips.

  
“Well, uncle Thorin helped a bit…” Bilbo laughed lightly at Thorin’s slightly offended face.

  
“I bet you did most of the work, though. You’re such a strong faunt, and you’re going to have to get stronger before Thorin gets any older!” Bilbo and Frodo laughed, partially from Bilbo’s comment, partially from Thorin’s face, which was quickly turning red and pouty. “Oh stop pouting you big dwarrowling, you know I don’t mean it.”

  
“Yes, yes, of course you dont,” Thorin replied and rolled his eyes. Bilbo kissed him once more and sat down.  
“So what do we want for first breakfast-“

  
“I’ll make it!” Frodo interjected. “I’ll make first breakfast this morning!” Bilbo shot Thorin a concerned stare. “Though… I do not know what you want.”

  
“Pancakes and bacon? Yes, Pancakes and bacon, please!” Thorin answered before turning to grin at Bilbo’s reddening face. “Just don’t make a mess, okay?”  
“Of course!”

Bilbo was about to shut Frodo down and tell them both to wait while he made breakfast (it would end in less of a mess and with actually edible food), but the excitable faunt had already left for the kitchen.

  
“… Why did you do that?” Bilbo asked and pursed his lips.

  
“Do what? Tell Frodo he could make first breakfast?” Thorin grinned innocently and pulled his husband into his wide lap. “Because the lad should learn to cook and be independent! And besides…” Thorin chuckled, pressing his sharp nose into the crook of Bilbo’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of old books and whatever it was that made Bilbo so irresistible.

  
“Thorin, Frodo is-“

  
“Focused on making breakfast.” the Dwarf interrupted cheekily and winked. Bilbo sighed and rolled his eyes—just what had he gotten himself into by marrying this silly Dwarf?

  
“Fine, fine, you ridiculous lump of hair,”

  
“You love this ridiculous lump of hair,” Thorin winked again and gave a playful squeeze to his husband’s plump hips.

  
Bilbo snorted and leaned forward to kiss the tip of Thorin’s nose, then his cheeks, moving down slowly until he reached those warm, chapped lips.  
“You are so handsome…” Bilbo breathed, “so, so handsome,” he punctuated each word with a kiss. Thorin laughed, holding his Hobbit closer.

  
“And getting more handsome each day,” Now it was Bilbo’s turn to laugh and nod. He rubbed Thorin’s chubby belly, thoroughly enjoying the way it jiggled under his hand. “Maybe later today you can spend some time rubbing-“

CRASH!

Bilbo winced at the sound that was definitely breaking glass.

  
“Uncle Bilbo! S-something happened!” The yelling of a distressed faunt cut clear through the house. Said uncle huffed and rose to his feet, ready to asses whatever damage Frodo had done.

  
“No, I’ll get it. You stay here and I’ll clean up and help Frodo make something,” Thorin guided Bilbo to his armchair and draped a blanket over his legs.  
Bilbo wasn’t quite sure how adding Thorin to the mess could be considered help, or how anything made by Frodo and Thorin in the kitchen could be edible, much less a proper first breakfast. However, he didn’t get to voice those thoughts, for Thorin had already left to aid Frodo.

  
Mornings (and life in general) weren’t nearly as quiet and anymore, but Bilbo would be lying if he said he minded. In fact, he wouldn’t want it anyway.


End file.
